


Anything Goes

by jusrecht



Category: Korean Actor RPF, Super Junior
Genre: Basically, M/M, although most will probably be joonkyu, his abundance of musical hyungs, kyuhyun and his musical hyungs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4477277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles and ficlets concerning Kyuhyun and his many hyungs from the musical sphere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Blue Umbrella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written with [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rUVnlzoWo4&feature=youtu.be) as an inspiration. (Kijoon/Kyuhyun)

 

It’s the blue umbrella.

 

The same blue umbrella Kyuhyun had bought about a week before they broke up. It had these little snowflake prints covering the edges—and he remembers instantly regretting the purchase, a small, faraway sting soon to be overshadowed by what was to come.

 

The odd thing is, he remembers the umbrella and its snowflakes, but try as he might (and he has been trying for the last three years), he can’t seem to remember why they fought in the first place.

 

Now he’s five paces behind, watching the blue umbrella bobbing in the crowd under a light drizzle. The sky above is a morose grey and Kyuhyun’s cautious, pessimistic nature sets in. Seoul is a large city. Possibly no less than a hundred other people have the same kind of umbrella. He’s simply being… sentimental.

 

Then two things happen. His mind finally registers what his eyes have been seeing all the way. There are two people under the umbrella, and then, just past the snowflake-y edge of the umbrella, a hand settles on a slighter shoulder. Natural. Firm. Protective.

 

Kyuhyun’s heart jolts painfully and he makes a 180 degree turn. Away from the place and the sight and the ache.

 

He’ll recognise that hand anywhere.

 

.

 

The second time he sees the blue umbrella is at a crossroad.

 

Kyuhyun is nearly halfway across, and there it is, bobbing in the crowd heading toward him. Panic spreads like wildfire and his first instinct is to flee, but the flow of people traps him in its thick current. He has no choice but to walk on, countless nervous heartbeats for each step.

 

This time, Kyuhyun sees his face, grim and shadowed, unchanged by everything between then and now. It was the face he wore the first time they met, standing in front of a class full of students. Kyuhyun sat in the backmost row, hiding behind _A History of Western Music_ textbook because a law student had no business being there.

 

The memories are sharp needle pricks that make him quickly lower his eyes when they almost come face to face.

 

Then it was three steps away. And two. And one.

 

By the time Kyuhyun has safely crossed the road, tears are misting his eyes.

 

.

 

The third time he sees the blue umbrella is at a Starbucks.

 

He has just stepped into the shop, and there it is, sitting innocently in the umbrella stand. For a moment, he stands frozen at the entrance, staring at the faded snowflake prints, until a hand comes to claim it.

 

Kyuhyun makes a strangled sound.

 

This time, there is no escape. Their gazes meet and his heart is a painful mess as heat floods his cheeks. He sees the shock, the small line between _his_ eyes, the beginning of a name on once-familiar lips—and flees out of the door before the moment can condense into something more concrete.

 

He runs, rain against his face, and imagines a voice calling him, a hand brushing against his shoulder, phantom heat on cold cheeks.

 

.

 

The fourth time he sees the blue umbrella, it stands all conspicuous against his apartment door.

 

It’s almost midnight and Kyuhyun has spent the last three hours in a business call arguing about things he doesn’t really care about and he’s ready to sleep through the whole weekend when he notices its all-too-familiar colour and snowflake prints.

 

His heart jumps, throbs, somersaults, and for a long moment he forgets to breathe.

 

When he finally reclaims a semblance of control over himself, he carries it inside, mind all a stormy whirl. Then he opens the umbrella and out falls a folded piece of paper, faintly smelling of tobacco.

 

Written inside are three words.

 

_I miss you._

 

Followed by a sequence of numbers. Kyuhyun grins through his tears because he still remembers every single digit. All this time, he only pretended that he forgot.

 

It takes him eleven tries, but he finally dials the number.

 

**_End  
_ **


	2. The Nature of Kingship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyuhyun makes a comparison between three Robins. (Junsang/Kyuhyun mostly, mentions of the other two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idek what this is bye

 

“Gunmyung-hyung,” Kyuhyun starts, fingers stroking a toned inner thigh lazily, “Gunmyung-hyung is the benevolent Robin. He’ll help Philip without expecting anything in return because he’s kind and loyal like that. When he makes love to me, it will totally be that— _making love_. He’ll be gentle and playful, a perfect, considerate lover. Above all, he will make sure that I’m sated and happy.”

 

“Now, Kijoon-hyung.” Kyuhyun pauses, biting his lower lip for added effect. “Kijoon-hyung rules from the shadows. He retreats to the background and gives suggestions—which I will follow, inevitably. And at night, he’ll come to my chamber and fuck me in my bed, or maybe he’ll bend me over the throne and have his way with me. Above all, he will make sure that I can’t live without him.”

 

“You, though.” Kyuhyun suddenly grins, sharp and impish. “You know what you want from the start. It can never be anything less than a kingship to you. And that’s why you’re sitting there while I’m here kneeling at your feet, waiting for your permission to suck your cock.”

 

Junsang grabs a handful of his hair, all brute force and impatience. “So that’s what you’ll do?”

 

Kyuhyun’s eyelids flutter. “So that’s what I’ll do.”

 

**_End  
_ **

 


	3. Cinderella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyuhyun found out about _Cinderella_. (Kijoon/Kyuhyun)

 

“Cinderella?” was the first thing Kyuhyun said after he closed the door behind him—hard. “ _Cinderella_?”

 

Kijoon raised one of his hands in a placating gesture. “In my defence, I only found out two days ago.”

 

“Two days ago.” His response was a sharp, accusing hiss.

 

“And you were busy with your ‘Devil’ promotion.”

 

“You could’ve texted me, hyung.” Kyuhyun heard the strain in his own voice, stringing words together in tight, clanging chains. “I thought we agreed that communication was important.”

 

“We did. I just didn’t want to bother you.”

 

“Bother me in what– I found out from a third party!”

 

His voice might or might not have cracked a little at the end—and almost as soon, embarrassment flooded through him. By then, however, he had already found himself in the circle of Kijoon’s arms, a sudden fortress against his waves of anger.

 

“I apologise,” the other man said in a quiet voice.

 

Kyuhyun inhaled sharply. “Don’t be sarcastic.”

 

“I’m not.” The embrace tightened slightly. “I’m really sorry.”

 

Kyuhyun closed his eyes and took a deep shaky breath, for the first time aware that he was on the verge of tears. Part of him was mildly upset at how vulnerable he could become from something so small. Another part chose to put the blame on the pressure of seemingly meaningless promotions, but the rest was inclined to simply breathe and allow the warm embrace to melt the rougher edges of his emotions.

 

“On the bright side,” Kijoon said again, “you can help me practice.”

 

Kyuhyun wanted to laugh out loud but only managed a weak scoff. “You just want me to be your princess.”

 

“No,” Kijoon's reply was mild but matter-of-fact. “I just want you to be mine.”

 

This time, he did not scoff; instead, a slow quiet smile spread across his face and Kyuhyun spent long minutes basking in this warm, pleasant cloud before finally disentangling himself from Kijoon’s arms.

 

“Brought hyung something,” he said, raising the plastic bag clutched by his fingers.

 

Kijoon raised an eyebrow at the aroma of his favourite seafood pancake. “I thought you were angry at me.”

 

“I was,” Kyuhyun muttered, reddening slightly. “I still am. I… can we just eat now?”

 

There was a quick twitch of a grin on Kijoon’s lips but it was quickly stifled, to Kyuhyun’s relief. Soon they had settled side by side in front of the television, watching Radio Star and leaning against each other until Kijoon landed a kiss on the top of his head and successfully smeared sauce all over his hair.

 

Kyuhyun spent long minutes grumbling and protesting, but he also couldn’t remember being this happy in months.

 

  
**_End_ **

 


	4. Risk Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teacher-Student High School AU. On Valentine's Day. (Kijoon/Kyuhyun)

 

“Why are you here again?”

 

“Hiding,” came the muffled reply from the dark recess under one of the laboratory tables. “Are they gone?”

 

Kijoon allowed the silence to answer for him. It was lunch hour and there were only the two of them in the Physics lab. A few seconds later, Kyuhyun peeked out from his hiding place, mouth still full of chocolate.

 

“I hate Valentine’s Day,” he stated rather incongruously.

 

“Then stop eating my chocolates,” was Kijoon's matter-of-fact reply as he gave yet another C- to another mediocre paper. “You have your own horde of fans—from whom you’ve been hiding by the way.”

 

“They’re not your chocolates,” Kyuhyun said firmly, disregarding the latter part of his argument.

 

“Yes, they're mine, they were given to me.”

 

The boy shrugged. “But you’re not going to eat them anyway.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“You don’t like chocolate.”

 

“I might make an exception if there's alcohol in them.”

 

“But they’re Valentine chocolates.”

 

“So?”

 

“So you can’t eat them.”

 

An amused smile touched Kijoon's lips. “Jealousy doesn’t really suit you.”

 

“It’s not jealousy,” Kyuhyun declared, jumping up to sit on his desk.

 

“Butts off,” Kijoon told him with a warning smack, ignoring the boy’s pout. “Well, what are you calling this sudden, illegitimate claim to my Valentine’s hoard then?”

 

“Risk management.”

 

Kijoon couldn’t help but laugh at that. And if afterwards he also couldn’t help but pull Kyuhyun down and kiss his very tempting, very irresistible lips, then he could always blame it on the day’s occasion. The brightly victorious grin he got in return was certainly worth it.

 

“I love it when you’re putting your job on the line for me,” Kyuhyun purred, a hint of smugness in his voice.

 

“Incorrigible brat,” Kijoon admonished, flicking the side of his head. “Go back to your class.”

 

“But can I drop by at your place later?”

 

“Will it stop you if I say no?”

 

“No,” Kyuhyun stuck his tongue out. “Because I’ll just sit in front of your door until you let me in.”

 

Kijoon rolled his eyes. “Class. Now.”

 

“Yes, _seonsaengnim_ ,” Kyuhyun hummed with a grin, not forgetting to grab the rest of the chocolates before leaving with an added spring in his step.

 

Kijoon snorted. He knew exactly why Kyuhyun had come in the first place.

 

Punishment was clearly in order.

 

 ******_End  
_**


	5. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, not that kind of pillow talk. (Kijoon/Kyuhyun)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owing this idea to [sigye](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sigye/pseuds/sigye).

“…hyung.”

 

“Hm.”

 

“…what are you doing?”

 

“Reading.”

 

“No, I mean,” Kyuhyun breathes in deeply, “ _what_ are you doing.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Your– oh my God your _head_ , okay, why is your head on my butt?”

 

“‘s nice and comfy.”

 

“Hyung!”

 

“It’s true,” is Kijoon’s distracted reply as he proceeds to make himself even more comfortable on that part of Kyuhyun’s anatomy.

 

Torn between flustered and weirdly flattered, Kyuhyun settles on hissing, “Do you know how ridiculous this is?”

 

“More or less.”

 

“You’re using my butt as a pillow.”

 

“I am aware.” The smooth, matter-of-fact drawl is certainly not helping. Kyuhyun valiantly resists an urge to maim something.

 

“And you don’t find…” he mutters, trying not to squirm, “at least several hundred things _wrong_ here?”

 

“Maybe I simply choose to ignore them.”

 

“Hyung, I’m serious.”

 

“And you think I’m not because?”

 

Kyuhyun swears under his breath, heat creeping up his face. “You're doing this on purpose.”

 

“I have no idea what you mean.”

 

“Seriously, hyung, what if,” he pauses, swallows, voice growing fainter, “what if I need to… go to the bathroom?”

 

“You can just tell me,” is Kijoon’s casual reply.

 

“Oh, like a kindergartener asking his teacher, _seonsaengnim_ I want to go to the toilet pleaaaase.”

 

The glance Kijoon suddenly slants his way is hooded, licked by heat. “Maybe if you try to convince me better.”

 

Kyuhyun groans and buries his face in the pillow. “I swear there is no end to your kinks.”

 

“You started it.”

 

“Just don’t blame me if I fart.”

 

“I won’t blame you.” There is a slow, ominous stroke down his thigh. “I’ll just punish you.”

 

Kyuhyun freezes—and no, he doesn't find the threat appealing at all. Absolutely not. Not even the sudden weight of disappointment in his chest when Kijoon sits up with a laugh proves anything.

 

Or the sharp heat in his lower gut when Kijoon leans over him to whisper, “Next time, I promise.”

 

Kyuhyun groans and flops down in defeat. Great. How is he going to stop thinking about that now?

 

_**End**  
_

 


	6. Kissing Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title says. Or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because... yes, his kissing scenes.

 

As it turned out, there were kisses, and then there were _kisses_.

 

Kyuhyun thought he knew enough, experienced enough if not much—but when Kijoon trapped him against the wall of an empty changing room and introduced him to one of the latter, he realised what presumption it was. Kisses like this singed, seized, tore, a brutal instrument where every stroke of tongue, every demanding caress of lips, was designed to overwhelm and conquer.

 

Kyuhyun gasped when his mouth was finally released, dazed, amazed, and more than slightly aroused.

 

“Okay.” He swallowed, breathless and warm all over. “So that’s what everyone is talking about.”

 

Kijoon’s grin splintered into a laugh and the sight of it, the sound of it, made Kyuhyun’s stomach flutter wildly. This thing between them was a restless little butterfly, delicate, brimming with colours and too-sharp sensations, its wings flapping uncontrollably—and yet it didn't fly away.

 

“Yes, that’s what everyone’s talking about,” Kijoon confirmed, playful, complacent, and matter-of-fact all smoothed into a deep, husky baritone. “This, however, is not.”

 

This second kiss was another revelation. It started soft, but was just as unrelenting, as deep and thorough, and yet quietly, reverently so, a courtly waltz instead of an indiscriminate conquest. But it wasn’t until Kijoon stroked the back of his neck and deepened the kiss that Kyuhyun _knew_ , knew how different this was, the intimacy making his head spin and blood rush, his fists tighten and toes curl, because they were entwined so deep, two as one, heartbeats in tandem, parts of a whole like trees and leaves and stars and skies.

 

He was unsure when they finally separated, or when his hands had moved to clutch Kijoon’s shoulders. All he knew was when the haze finally receded, Kijoon was smiling at him, with all the wonder and affection of an adoring lover.

 

That, more than anything, made Kyuhyun’s breath catch as realisation came hurtling in.

 

He was not the only one caught.

 

“Is there any other kiss you can teach me?” he asked a moment later, and if it sounded a little too hopeful, then at least no one else was around to laugh at him.

 

Kijoon's answering grin was sharply predatory. “Better save them for somewhere more private,” the reply was a low, silky whisper, followed by a knee pressing gently between his legs, and Kyuhyun had to bite down a curse, fingers clenching hard on Kijoon’s arms as desire spiked in his lower belly.

 

“A good idea,” he gasped, prompting another laugh from the older man. The sound lingered in Kyuhyun’s ears and it made him lean forward, stealing one last kiss, this one entirely his own, his courage and his initiative and completely _his_.

 

The surprise in Kijoon's face was a delight. Kyuhyun couldn't help a laugh, warm and bright and so much like happiness.

 

He was in love.

 

_**End** _

 


	7. Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kijoon is a wizard and Kyuhyun a wind sprite (or god, as he claims).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written with Kyuhyun's song, _Wind_ , as an inspiration (although I completely disregarded the lyrics because I don't know what it means bye)

 

The wind whispered in his ears.

 

Sighing softly, Kijoon leaned back to rest against the sturdy trunk of a tree and let his eyes drift shut. It had been a while since he had left with the king’s army on a campaign north—part of his duty as the Court Archmage.  After months of conquest and destruction and carnage, he was more than ready to reclaim all the familiar comforts of home.

 

‘Home’ was a small house at the edge of a forest bordering the castle. Kijoon had spent most of his life in a like environment, mingling with nature’s heartbeat and life’s breath. To be a wizard is to be a master of element, a recognition which both friends and foes would readily accord him, for he commanded fire as easily as he did water and earth, or any combination in between.

 

Wind, flightiest of them all, had continued to elude him for years and years—until one day.

 

“You’re back.”

 

When Kijoon opened his eyes again, he was no longer alone. In front of him, cradled by gentle breeze, was the one who had kept wind away from his control for the better part of his life.

 

Kijoon smiled. “Hello.”

 

And then earned himself an armful of tempestuous gale bundled into the irresistible shape of a beautiful young man, garbed in leaves and flowers.

 

“You’re alright,” the soft whisper that reached his ear was overflowing with relief.

 

“Of course I am, as if you didn't know,” Kijoon teased, lightly stroking along Kyuhyun's naked back. He was probably the only human powerful enough to touch the wind spirit like this. This close, Kyuhyun smelled like rain and dew and moist earth, and to hold him in his arms was like coming home, to a place where he could feel safest.

 

Kyuhyun stiffened. “I have no idea what you mean.”

 

Kijoon suppressed a smile. “Really?”

 

“In case you have forgotten, I am and will still be chained to this forest for at least the next two hundred years.”

 

“Still. Who else but you could fan the flames I created to ensure our victory so completely?”

 

The flowers on Kyuhyun’s hair turned slightly pink and Kijoon couldn’t resist a grin and a stealthy kiss on them. If Kyuhyun had noticed, then he successfully pretended not to.

 

“For a human, you are very presumptuous,” he declared.

 

“For a wind sprite, you are very untruthful.”

 

Kyuhyun’s eyes flashed. “I’m not a sprite. I am a god.”

 

Kijoon grinned. “Then how lucky I am to be the beloved of a god.”

 

Kyuhyun huffed. “Like I said, presumptuous.”

 

The lack of denial didn’t escape Kijoon, but commenting on it would only earn him more denials and possibly the temper tantrum of a ridiculously powerful god, and so he opted for safety. “Thank you all the same. Many more lives would have to be sacrificed to secure a victory had the wind not blown at the right time to the right direction.”

 

Kyuhyun gave him a long, level stare. “I know,” he said at last, with a soft, fleeting stroke which felt like a warm breeze of a kiss to his cheek.

 

Kijoon laughed. Beloved of a god indeed.

 

 _ **End**_  



	8. Werther

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles revolving around the 2015-2016 Werther musical. JoonKyu.

\---

  
  
**the birth**  
takes place during Kyuhyun's early shows, no specific timestamp

 

“You did it.”

Kyuhyun tries to smile, he swears he _tries_ , but any expression that so much as hovers warily above his face just crumbles against the maelstrom that is his wrecked emotions right now.

Kijoon’s presence doesn’t help. Neither does his touch, or his sympathetic silence, or his sheer solid warmth around Kyuhyun’s shaking form, his quiet strength as he allows Kyuhyun to fall apart completely in his arms.

“’m sorry it’s stupid.” Again he tries, forming words through pain-seared lungs and squeezing throat. They all come out gibberish and another wrecking sob seizes him. He doesn’t even know why he cries anymore, if he’s Werther or Kyuhyun or just a terrified little boy who tries so, so, so hard to be good, to learn, to crawl little by little, to _matter_. All he knows is he feels raw, skinned to core, and every touch is an unpleasant shock of too-much-too-sharp-too-intense through his system.

Kijoon either doesn’t know or doesn’t care because his arms only tighten around him.

“I’m fucking proud of you.”

Kyuhyun stills. There’s a moment of pure euphoria, hot and blinding, before it too dissolves into another wave of tears.

At least he can blame Kijoon for this one.

 

-

 

**the pair**  
timestamp: [Kyuhyun's Werther and Kijoon's Rebecca](https://twitter.com/stoppedclock321/status/684393655851855872)

 

Kyuhyun has just rounded the corner, mind still half on stage, half on late night snack, when Kijoon emerges from the other end of the hall.

A wide smile splits the older man’s face. “Hey, you’re going out this way too?”

In a better, kinder world, Kyuhyun would have crossed the distance and flew into Kijoon’s arms without a second thought because although they hadn’t seen each other for weeks, they _had_ announced to the world that they were currently in relationship and very much in love with each other.

Here, now, he forces his hands to stay at his side, keeps his smile from becoming too ridiculously happy, and throws back with a shrug, “There’s no other way.”

The smile on Kijoon’s face softens a little as they fall into step next to each other. “You look happy. A good show?”

Kyuhyun restrains himself from pointing out that half of the reason why he’s smiling is the man beside him. “Awesome. You should’ve seen it.”

“Because it was your best yet?”

“Because you would’ve fallen for me for the hundredth time,” Kyuhyun keeps his voice low but sassy.

“Brat.” Kijoon laughs, his fingers fondly tousling Kyuhyun’s hair. “So proud of you though.”

Kyuhyun looks down in case his pleased flush is too obvious, but the warmth of Kijoon’s arm, now settling around his shoulders in a half-proprietary, half-protective fashion, doesn’t help. It’s only when they almost reach the door and catch sight of the horde of fans waiting outside that Kijoon lets him go.

“Okay, I’m outta here.”

“Coward,” Kyuhyun mutters, making sure that Kijoon can hear him clearly. He should have known, however, that good things rarely come from challenging Kijoon because his boyfriend is an incorrigible man who does absolutely incorrigible things—like giving his cheek a fleeting kiss, mere feet away from the glass doors.

“Yeah, because a coward would totally do that,” he says in a smug voice, pushing a gaping Kyuhyun to the doors as they slide open.

The fans start screaming. Kyuhyun huffs. Any attempt at retaliation will have to wait.

 

-

 

**the graduation**  
timestamp: [Kyuhyun's last Seoul show](https://twitter.com/0203WONDERLAND/status/685112785580130304)

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I tell you?” Kijoon is all laugh and bright, blinding grins. “If you could’ve seen your face back then, you wouldn’t tell you either. It was absolutely priceless.”

Kyuhyun pouts, but it cannot stay long after what just happened. “I never thought you would come,” he admits, a little embarrassed but mostly guilty.

“I know,” Kijoon answers cheekily. Kyuhyun bumps their shoulders because his boyfriend is being, well, his annoying self, but ends up leaning against the other man, head on Kijoon's shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “It means so much for me.”

“It should,” Kijoon tells him in a solemn tone. “I drove here by myself. On my off day. You must admit it’s an accomplishment.”

“God, I hate you sometimes,” he mutters into Kijoon’s shoulder but he is also laughing and it's completely ruining the effect.

“I wouldn’t miss it, you know,” Kijoon suddenly speaks again, fingers tangling in Kyuhyun’s hair. “Never been prouder in my life.”

Kyuhyun finds himself blinking back tears at the heartfelt praise. He half expects another teasing, but Kijoon remains blissfully silent, content to stroke the side of his neck. Neither of them say anything for a long while, basking in their proximity and unexpected peace instead.

“December 22, 2013,” he starts, all quiet and honest the words tremble between them. “I watched your Werther for the first time in my life. That was when I knew I had to be Werther. And to get there, I had to be very good.” He raises his head then, meeting the older man's unreadable gaze. “So thank you, truly.”

The look on Kijoon’s face is something he has never seen before. Neither does he say anything, but the eloquent press of his hand on Kyuhyun’s says everything.

 

-

 

**the last**  
timestamp: [Kijoon's last Werther](https://www.instagram.com/p/BBMvxAwOrTQ/) ([bonus](https://twitter.com/stoppedclock321/status/694532036174835714))

 

Kyuhyun finds him in the changing room, half leaning against the makeup table and staring at the opposite wall.

“Hyung?” His knock is timid, and so is his voice. Confident as he is in their attachment to each other, Kyuhyun is nevertheless painfully aware that he is a relatively recent addition to Kijoon’s life. Werther, on the other hand, has been with his lover for a long, long time.

He honestly has never seen Kijoon cry like that—for _anything_.

Kijoon’s surprise is evident yet distant. “Hey,” he greets with a quick smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Kyuhyun hesitates a little before finally deciding to step into the room and close the door behind him.

“Are you alright?”

Even with swollen eyes and tear-damp cheeks, Kijoon’s nonplussed expression is a flawless mask. “What do you mean?”

Kyuhyun only gives him a _look_. This time, the flash of a smile on Kijoon’s face is far more genuine, fleeting as it is.

“I’m fine,” he answers, extending a hand to Kyuhyun, who takes it gratefully and steps closer.

“Really? I mean… I know how much Werther means for you. Well, not _know_ , per se, but at least I can guess–”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Kijoon repeats, clasping Kyuhyun’s face between his palms. “I’m sad, yes, but at least I leave him in good hands.”

“I agree,” Kyuhyun replies quickly, relief finally starting to replace worry. “Seungwoo-hyung is a great actor.”

“Seungwoo is a terrific actor, but he isn’t actually here.”

He blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Because the person I’m talking about is here in this room.”

It takes Kyuhyun a few seconds to process the words, and then finds himself facing the high wall of denial. “Yeah, right,” he snorts. “I’m not exactly–”

A hand to his chin stops the rest of his words. “I’m serious.” And both Kijoon’s tone and expression are nothing less. “I saw with my own eyes how hard you worked and how much you’ve improved. And you love what you do, which is equally important. You can make Werther yours.”

“Not like you.” The words rush out of Kyuhyun’s mouth smoothly, like only absolute truths can. “You are and will always be _the_ Werther for me.”

The smile Kijoon gives him is one of the most beautiful Kyuhyun has ever seen. “Then my job is done,” he declares, tapping Kyuhyun’s nose playfully. “Now it’s your turn to make someone think that way about you too.”

Kyuhyun raises his eyebrows. “That’s the challenge?”

“That’s the challenge,” Kijoon confirms with a laugh.

Kyuhyun pouts and hides a satisfied smile at the same time. The shadow is now gone from his lover’s eyes.

He certainly considers it a job well done.

 

\---

 


	9. Bartending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bartender saw two men and a reporter. JoonKyu. Outsider POV. Original character(s).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bartender, Jongwook, is an OC. Didn't write him with anyone in mind.

It wasn't as if Jongwook approved of that kind of thing.

 

In fact, he had been raised in the staunch belief that _it_ was not only morally wrong but also absolutely disgusting. Even now, after his long, varied career in a number of cosmopolitan pubs and drinking establishments in downtown Seoul, the idea of two men together still made him inwardly cringe.

 

These two, however, evoked a slightly different reaction in him; only _slightly_ , but apparently material enough to make a difference.

 

His current workplace was a popular hangout for the musical crowds. His wife’s love for musicals allowed him knowledge of faces and names, and he would catch a glimpse of her favourite actors and actresses every now and then. One of them, Uhm Kijoon, was a particular favourite whose name popped up in her conversation with alarming frequency—but with time, he had learned to dismiss his own jealousy and see her obsession as what it truly was: a hobby.

 

Uhm Kijoon was a mostly quiet patron compared to some others whom he had had the misfortune to encounter. He always came in with a crowd, some young, some not so much, and between them they would finish dozens of bottles and monopolise a table for hours, sometimes right to the small hours of the morning. After several more of such sightings, the novelty wore off and Jongwook began to regard the actor as just another guest.

 

Until he started coming in with only one person. Repeatedly.

 

Jongwook thought nothing of it at first. He didn't know the younger one, but he was obviously a junior in musical. A tall, awkward boy with a red nose was probably the most he could come up with if he were asked for a description. What snatches of conversation he inadvertently heard during these drinking sessions revolved around musicals, acting, and rehearsals, with the usual occasional forays into completely random topics under the magical influence of alcohol.

 

The fourth or fifth time it had happened, Jongwook found himself watching them more closely, although he couldn't say exactly why. The two seemed close, but so were dozens other guests in the place. Silly and ridiculously intimate behaviours between drunken men were as common as flies in summer. He had definitely seen more than his fair share of male patrons licking the face of other male patrons under a drunken spell. If these two were laughing together, intimately, with their faces too close to each other, then it was certainly mild enough in comparison.

 

And so he watched them, week after week, until one night, Jongwook noticed that he was not the only one who _noticed._

 

The place was only half full, murmurs of conversations ebbing and flowing. The pair was seated at a corner table, wrapped in their own world as usual. A man at a neighbouring table, however, seemed particularly interested in them. Jongwook watched him with narrowed eyes, trying to place a name to the face.

 

Ten minutes later, he gave up. A casual question to one of the waitresses gave him a name and a profession.

 

A paparazzo.

 

The man made a regular appearance over the next couple of days, waiting for the other two—and when they finally came in on a Thursday night, watching them with the same unpleasant, speculative eyes. The pair seemed even more oblivious than usual today, the younger one in particular. He was quiet, misery palpable on his face, and more than once, Uhm Kijoon would touch his hand or reach up to give his cheek a small, comforting stroke.

 

Both were miles away from drunk, only one half-consumed bottle between them. Jongwook had to repeatedly stop himself from going over and shake them awake.

 

But it was not until the reporter reached into his pocket to take out his phone that Jongwook reacted.

 

He turned around, took a new bottle of soju from the shelf and a paper napkin, on which he scribbled a few words. Then he quickly left the bar to deliver the bottle to the table. At that moment, he could only remember how his sister’s life had been destroyed by someone in that abhorrent profession three years ago.

 

“Your order, sir,” he murmured, deliberately positioning himself between them and the reporter, and placed the paper napkin directly in front of Uhm Kijoon.

 

Distracted as he was, the actor nevertheless noticed Jongwook’s scribbles. His eyes widened, but he displayed no other reaction and only leaned down to murmur in his companion’s ear. Only then that he looked at Jongwook.

 

“Thank you.” There was no attempt at denial—only a world of gratitude in two little words.

 

Nodding stiffly, Jongwook quickly returned to his station and steadfastly refused to look in that direction for the next ten minutes or so, until the two were gone. He was partly angry at himself for taking an active role to protect such a relationship, but another part of him couldn't help but feel that he had done the right thing. Especially against wolves who made it their job to destroy other people's lives.

 

He did not see either of them again. Only an envelope came to him bearing his name—from a patron, according to his boss. Inside was enough money to cover his rent for the next three months and a paper napkin with his own handwriting on it.

 

_You are being watched._

 

That night, he bought two musical tickets for him and his wife, a present for their wedding anniversary.

 

  _ **End**_

 


	10. Dreaming Out Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 50 Sentences of Kijoon/Kyuhyun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts from [1sentence](http://1sentence.livejournal.com/profile), theme set Gamma.

 

#01 - Ring

It wasn’t the name on the phone screen, or the silly, cheesy anime song that noisily filled the car; it was the way the whole world lit up in Kyuhyun’s eyes when a call with that particular ringtone came in that told Yongsun why.

           

#02 - Hero

It took him a while to get used to the idea, but anyone who could make Kyuhyun smile like that after a particularly horrible day was a hero in his book.

          

#03 - Memory

No matter how they began, it was definitely not love at first sight.

 

#04 - Box

But Kijoon was and would always be one of the reasons why Kyuhyun had found enough courage to climb out of the idol box in the end.

           

#05 - Run

Kyuhyun had tried to run from this attraction—he _swore_ he had.

  

#06 - Hurricane

What he hadn’t known was: love like this swept you off your feet and left you no choice.

           

#07 - Wings

 _Of course you can_ —it might be a challenge, or an encouragement cloaked in taunt’s barbed garb, but all Kyuhyun knew was the words gave him wings.

           

#08 - Cold

The thing about spending too much time together was he started grabbing the wrong scarf when winter waltzed in.

           

#09 - Red

Until one day, there was a red, fluffy one hanging conspicuously in Kijoon’s closet, bearing Kyuhyun’s initial in huge obnoxious letters—and while Kyuhyun complained a lot about the style and colour, he ended up wearing it for the rest of the season.

           

#10 - Drink

“Therefore what alcohol has joined together, let no one separa–”

 

#11 - Midnight

If it weren’t past midnight and he weren’t dead drunk himself, Kyuhyun could probably muster enough indignation to scold his boyfriend for being blasphemous.

         

#12 - Temptation

It was the small things which had attracted Kijoon's attention at first, like the way Kyuhyun would purse his lips in concentration, or the long fingers pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

           

#13 - View

For a long time, he was content to admire the view from afar—until one day, the surreptitious glances thrown his way in return (and these always accompanied by a lovely blush when their gazes met) became way too obvious not to be noticed.

           

#14 - Music

“Sing for me.”

           

#15 - Silk

Kyuhyun would have told his boyfriend what a kinky bastard he was, but with the silk tie around his mouth, he could only settle for a glare.

 

#16 - Cover

Not that he didn’t enjoy these more adventurous sides of their sex life; it was the long-sleeved, high-necked shirts he had to don for at least a week afterwards that tried his patience.

           

#17 - Promise

From the beginning, they never promised each other anything, for promises were far too certain for something as uncertain as their relationship.

           

#18 - Dream

But Kijoon dreamed of a day that he would be able to say, _let's stay together for a long, long time_.

           

#19 - Candle

It started as an attempt at a romantic candlelight dinner, but when they ended up using the candles for other purpose... well, Kyuhyun would definitely blame Changmin for ever putting the idea in his head.

           

#20 - Talent

The best thing in the world that Kijoon had ever listened to was Kyuhyun’s conquering the world through his voice.

 

#21 - Silence

The worst thing in the world that Kyuhyun had ever listened to was Kijoon’s silence.

           

#22 - Journey

They never held hands—the mere idea of it deserved a scornful laugh—but right now the night was old and the street deserted, and Kyuhyun thought _the hell with everything_ and slipped his hand around Kijoon’s.

           

#23 - Fire

It might be the element of surprise, but he definitely had no complaint for the heat that came to Kijoon’s eyes, or the way they made love afterwards.

           

#24 - Strength

Kijoon never considered himself strong; he simply didn’t know how to give up loving Kyuhyun.

           

#25 - Mask

As hot as he found Maxim or Jack in bed, Kyuhyun’s favourite would always be his lazy, dorky Kijoonie-hyung.

 

#26 - Ice

It was illogical to expect that everyone who found out would be supportive, but every scorn, every cold shoulder, every disgusted look sent his way never failed to stab Kyuhyun in the heart.

           

#27 - Fall

Times like this, Kyuhyun couldn’t help but wonder if falling in love should really cause so much pain and regret.

 

#28 - Forgotten

The problem was, the next time he saw Kijoon's smile, he knew they were all worth it.

           

#29 - Dance

Publae spent three years of his life watching the two idiots dance around each other through _The Three Musketeers_ and _Catch Me If You Can_ —like hell if he’d let them break up that easily.

           

#30 - Body

One of Kijoon’s favourite pastimes was to map Kyuhyun’s body—with eyes, fingers, or tongue were mere details.

 

#31 - Sacred

And Kyuhyun would always let him, for moments like this were when he knew that he was truly a treasure.

           

#32 - Farewells

In the course of six years, they had broken up four times, each worse than the last.

           

#33 - World

The first time they broke up, Yongsun hated the entire world and their mother for reducing Kyuhyun into this sad ghost of his bright former self.

           

#34 - Formal

Now, whenever they met, it was all business and painful formality—and it _hurt_.

           

#35 - Fever

The first time they made up, it was because Kyuhyun had a forty-degree fever and Kijoon was the one who dragged him to the hospital.

 

#36 - Laugh

The second time they made up, Kyuhyun had to excuse himself from an after party because the sight of Kijoon smiling nearly brought him to tears and it was suddenly so absurd that he had thought he would do just fine without that smile.

 

#37 - Lies

“I hate you.”

 

#38 - Forever

The third time they made up, it was because Publae thundered at them for being stupid idiots who clearly were too stupid to realise that they were too stupidly in love with each other.

           

#39 - Overwhelmed

Neither of them had ever doubted that they loved each other, but sometimes, _sometimes,_ the world was just too much.

           

#40 - Whisper

The whispers started in the usual quarters, blind items and internet gossips, slowly building up an inferno.

 

#41 - Wait

The course of the change was all but familiar now, a well-trodden path full of thorns and sharp pebbles, sinking deep into the sole of his feet as they drifted further apart.

           

#42 - Talk

Their last breakup was very civil and sensible, and that was how Kijoon knew this was truly the end.

           

#43 - Search

It took Kyuhyun six months and lots of painful soul-searching to realise that choices made for the right reasons were not always right.

 

#44 - Hope

He did not dare to hope, but one chance meeting in the hall of Sejong, one look into Kijoon's equally hope-starved eyes, and ‘no’ once more turned into ‘maybe’.

                                                                                                                   

#45 - Eclipse

It took Kijoon equally long to recognise, to gather enough courage, to _admit,_ that some loves just eclipsed everything else.

 

#46 - Gravity

Kissing Kyuhyun again after so long was neither a thunderbolt of realisation nor an earth-shattering experience; it simply felt like coming home.

         

#47 - Highway

There are certainly easier ways to get through life, but not one of them has Kijoon in it—and for Kyuhyun, that was _that_.

           

#48 - Unknown

Kyuhyun tried to wait until Kijoon had finished outlining every single reason why Kyuhyun should not say yes so quickly, before finally losing patience and answering, “I don’t give a damn and yes, _of course_ I will marry you, you idiot hyung.”

           

#49 - Lock

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, and do you promise to cleave to him and to him alone, for as long as you both shall live?”

           

#50 - Breathe

Kijoon laughed; no question could be more rhetorical, but he took a deep breath and delivered the answer anyway.

 

_**End** _

 


End file.
